


The Night Turns

by StarCannon



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Demisexuality, Developing Relationship, F/M, Late Night Conversations, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-14 15:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9188519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarCannon/pseuds/StarCannon
Summary: A series of late nights and early mornings gradually shift Mulder and Scully's relationship. (Weaves in and around Seasons 6 & 7).





	

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to find an X-Files fic that dealt with demisexuality, but was unsuccessful. So I made one myself. I'll be honest - I haven't written or posted fan fiction in about ten years, so I apologize for being a bit rusty. Please let me know what you think!

Mulder tore open his gift and turned the VHS over excitedly in his hands. “Apollo 13! I haven’t seen this since it came out.”

“I just thought it was a cool looking movie.” Scully smirked.

“Have you not see it?”

She shrugged. “I’ve been meaning to. Something always seems to come up. Vampires. Flukemen...”

Scully tore open her own gift and a cascade of brightly colored discs fell to her lap. “...pogs?”

“They’re all the rage.”

Her confused expression met his satisfied smile.

“I bought some for myself, too. Maybe we can play for keeps sometime.”

“Lucky me.”

“Wanna watch?” Mulder held up the movie.

Her eyes flicked to the clock. “Mulder, it’s 5:45am.”

“No time like the present, Scully.” He pointed to the tape. “Present. Get it?”

Some point between sighing at the pun and opening her mouth to object, Scully caught the excitement in Mulder’s tired eyes and reconsidered.

It was true that it was Christmas and her family was expecting her. But it was also true that she had only said she would see them ‘sometime Christmas Day’, which could be interpreted many different ways. Bill would probably be pissed if she was later than expected, but when wasn’t Bill pissed? Her family had each other. Mulder had no one.

“Sure.”

“Really?”

She set the pogs on the table and sunk back into the cushions resignedly. “Why not?”

His grin spread wide as he stood and slid the tape out of the cover. “I got popcorn. Or tea.”

“No popcorn. Tea would be nice though.”

Mulder shoved the tape into the player and tossed her the remote. “You’re on fast-forward duty.”

She caught it and obediently fast-forwarded through the previews. Watching the actors dance at super-human speed across the screen, she tried not to focus too much on the happy rush of blood now spreading just as quickly through her veins.

She wasn’t sure what had made her feel so damn content all the sudden. Perhaps it was just the simple fact that she was in Mulder’s apartment, with its bubbling fish tank and worn-down leather sofa and various mug-ringed surfaces. It didn’t feel like home exactly - she could never stand to let her own apartment reach the messy levels of his - but it felt...familiar. Comfortable. Exactly what she needed after hallucinating a bullet to the stomach. Mulder’s eagerness to keep her around for a few more hours seemed to reflect that he felt the same way. She was glad.

To her surprise, Mulder returned carrying matching Christmas teddy bear mugs filled with streaming liquid. He plopped a handful of Hersey kisses next to them on the coffee table.

“Peppermint green tea and chocolate hor d’oeuvres.”

“Wow. Festive.”

“The least I could do for almost killing us on this most silent of holy nights.”

“Silent of holy mornings.”

“Po-ta-to, po-tot-o.”

The hot tea slid soothingly down her throat, warming to her toes. Inevitably her sleepy thoughts drifted gently to Mulder. Not just seeing him next to her, enthralled in the film, but feeling him. Sensing him. Hearing him as he pulled out a half-eaten bag of sunflower seeds and nibbled anyway, tossing the shells into his empty mug. Mulder had become the natural ambience in the background of her life.

Somewhere between an intense back and forth between Apollo and Houston, Scully’s contentment lulled her to sleep. Her conscious mind did not register that her newfound pillow was Mulder’s shoulder. Nor did it notice when he carefully tugged her mug from her limp grip to set it on the table, or sense the renewed warmth when he pulled a blanket over both of them. She didn’t even stir when his own cheek slumped against her forehead, sleep carrying him away as well...

She woke before opening her eyes. Judging from the triumphant score blaring from the TV, she guessed the credits were rolling. Shifting to sit up, her nose bumped something and she opened her eyes only to be met with Mulder’s, sideways-gazing at her as he head slumped against the back of the couch. Much closer than anticipated. The tip of his nose brushed the tip of hers.

The happy rush within surged back tenfold. She was hyper aware of every tiny movement he made to inch his lips closer to hers. She tipped her chin up, drawn in by the faint smell of peppermint on his breath...

...but then Scully froze. Thrill turned to panic.

‘Why?’ a part of herself demanded. But the other part had no words to explain, no logic to describe the feeling that lurched from her gut. She only knew that it could not be ignored. Pressing her hands to his chest, she gently pushed him away.

“Scully...”

A loud buzzing rippled from her coat pocket. She scrambled frantically away from him to answer it, shaky hands seeking the device like a drowning victim to a life preserver.

“Mom! Hi! Merry Christmas!” she exclaimed into the receiver with a bit too much enthusiasm. She ran a hand nervously through her hair and flipped the phone to her other ear, hiding her flushed cheeks from Mulder’s view.

“Merry Christmas, sweetie. I just tried calling your apartment. Are you on your way?”

“Um.” Scully’s eyes darted to the time on the VCR. 8:05 AM. “I actually...I’m running a little late.”

“How long do you think you’ll be?”

Scully felt Mulder shift and threw him an apologetic smile. She hoped neither the embarrassment nor the fear was noticeable in her face. Her mind was reeling with too many thoughts and it was becoming harder to focus on the conversation at hand.

“Not...uh...not long. I’ll let you know when I’m close.” Scully stood and haphazardly yanked her coat on. She appreciated that Mulder did not get up or try to help.

“Okay, well I hope you can make it soon.” Maggie lowered her voice slightly and added, “Bill and Tara have this ridiculous idea for a family picture, and no one’s sure how long Matthew is going to be able to keep his new outfit clean before we can take it.”

“Oh, what’s their brilliant plan this year?” Scully snatched up her pogs and stuffed them into her coat pocket, then glanced once more at Mulder. He remained curled up under the blanket, watching her through heavy-lidded eyes.

Her mother’s rant about her brother went unprocessed as she offered a tight lipped smile and wave goodbye. He lifted a hand from under the blanket and waved meekly back. She wished she could tell him that they would talk about this later, but knew they probably wouldn’t.

It was all she could do to walk away and spend the rest of the holiday without him.

___

The memory of that morning hardly left her thoughts the rest of the day. Sometimes it soared ecstatically through her consciousness, but sometimes...sometimes it cut like a sharp sting of regret.

A night of tossing and turning in her childhood bedroom finally broke her. They had to talk about it. She had to. She would have The Conversation. Her palms sweat just thinking about it.

But he had to know. It was Mulder. She could no longer pretend that she didn’t see the way he looked at her. The way he’d looked at her last summer when he’d tried to kiss her in the hallway. The way he had looked hours ago. He deserved to know.

___

By the following Monday, Scully had a practiced script in her head as she marched down the FBI basement hall. Her fists clinched and unclinched through her anxiety. She stopped outside the door, took one last inhale of courage, then stepped into the office.

“You’re early.” Mulder was standing in front of a file cabinet, shifting through folders. “How’s the family?”

“Good. Fine. They’re all fine.” She found herself unable to meet his eyes, which did not go unnoticed.

“What’s up?”

She looked down at the floor and licked her lips uncomfortably. “Mulder. I need to tell you something.”

His eyes searched for hers, trying to gauge the severely of the moment. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just...” She put a hand over her heart, which was practically galloping. “...I’ve never really talked about this before. I guess I’m a little nervous.”

Mulder shut the cabinet between them and reached out, his thumb encouragingly rubbing her forearm. “Take your time.”

“Look, Mulder, I’m not really sure how else to say this except just to say it....” She took another breath, forced herself to look into his concerned eyes, then said, “I think you should know that I’m...demisexual.”

Mulder’s brows twitched in a micro expression of surprise. “....oh.”

“It’s not that I can’t enjoy...doing things...or that I never want to, I just....I usually don’t. I’d rather not...do some things. Not that I don’t find myself attracted to people, it’s just...in a different way than...than someone like you are...attracted...to a person.” Scully shook her head and pressed her fingers to her temples. “God, I’m explaining this horribly...”

“It’s okay.”

Scully squeezed her eyes closed in painful regret. “Nevermind. Forget I said anything.”

“No.” Mulder curled his fingers around her hands, tugging them gently from her face. He waited until she opened her eyes again. “I appreciate you telling me.”

“Do you even understand what I’m trying to say?”

“I think so. A little bit.”

Scully nodded, sure he was more confused than he was letting on, but running out of strength to continue. She sighed and dropped her shoulders in defeat. “Anyway. That’s all I wanted to say.”

Mulder offered a small grin and waited until she returned it before tugging the cabinet back open. “Well, as long as we’re sharing things, check out this out.”

He yanked a folder out of the cabinet and handed to her. Scully took it gratefully, happy to leap back into the usual skeptic-believer routine. It was familiar and predictable. It gave her less time to dwell on the shift she had just instigated between them, for better or worse.

___

In the months that passed, Scully found it harder to distinguish excitement from dread when it came to spending time with Mulder. There had always been an unspoken bond, but now that it had been addressed - in an admittedly indirect and awkward way - every interaction and intention behind it held a notable weight of significance.

His extremely early/late birthday present was the most surprising and obvious example of this. They spent the entire night together, sending ball after ball sailing into the inky darkness, then wandering through the park until the sun poked its way through the trees. The whole display felt exactly like a date. Like a incredibly fun and perfect date.

He hugged her more often, and longer. He waited for her reaction to decide how to respond when strangers assumed they were a couple. Sometimes if they were out to lunch and not on a case, she made no effort to correct them, so neither did he.

Something secret - hidden even to herself, since the first day she’d walked into the office - was finally showing itself. Only now was she really seeing it. Accepting it as truth.

It did not come as a shock at all when Padgett called her out. Of course she was in love.

And then New Year’s came. And so did a kiss.

And so did the panic.

When she pulled away, she tried to stay happy and ignore the worries clouding her thoughts, but the mask was thin and Mulder saw straight through it.

The drive home from the airport was long and unusually quiet. She wished she could think of anything to say, but nothing that would make sense to him came to mind. Mulder was someone who kept a personal stash of porn both at home and at work. Someone who had only two numbers on speed dial - hers, and 1-800-OOH-LALA. Someone whose favorite Elvis Presley song was ‘Satisfaction’, which he gladly belted to her in the car whenever it came on the radio. There were many strange, awkward things they could discuss well. Physical intimacy was just not one of them.

The deafening silence remained until she pulled up outside his apartment.

“I hope you know I haven’t forgotten what you told me last year.”

“What?” Oh God. He was really doing it. He was going to try talking about this.

“What you said last Christmas.” He spoke to the dials of the radio instead of looking at her directly. Whether this was for her benefit or his, she didn’t know. “I read a bit about it.”

“You have?” Scully’s eyes remained on the top of the stirring wheel, heart lurching nervously.

“Just some articles here and there. I was curious.”

There was a pause. Scully tapped the wheel nervously with her thumbs, unsure what to say. How much time had he put into thinking about this? Thinking about her?

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier.” At last her looked at her, sincerely. “I was just happy to have made it through another year with you.”

Scully look at him and smiled. “Me too.”

Mulder nodded, satisfied. “Okay. Well. Goodnight, Scully.”

“Night, Mulder.”

She managed to let him exit the car, gather his bags, and make it halfway up the walk before tapping the car horn.

The short ‘bleep!’ was enough to cause Mulder to swing back towards her in shock, jostling with the bag straps to keep them slung over his good arm. She rolled the passenger window down.

“Can I come in for a minute?”

With a warm smile he threw his head back towards the building, beckoning her. “Always.”

___

The minute turned into many minutes. Several hours, in fact. Mulder made tea (something that was steadily becoming a staple of their late night routine), and they talked.

Not the usual shop or anecdotal talk, but real talk. Mulder had not been lying when he said he was curious. She found herself sharing much more about her preferences and feelings than she could ever remember discussing with anyone, even her sister. She clarified that she experienced romantic attraction much more often than she experienced sexual attraction. Most of the time she felt intense romantic attraction for someone, without ever feeling sexually attracted at all.

She’d had sex. She’d had enjoyable sex. But - much like her feelings about broccoli or watching Tom Cruise films - she didn’t really care about it that much. Once in a blue mood she was in the mood, but it was by no means a necessary activity to engage in. She could go happily for years without it and not miss it at all.

She expected him to gape in disbelief, to question what she really felt, but he didn’t. Instead, he sat back in the couch and absorbed everything she said, putting the pieces together carefully in his analytical mind.

“So...” Mulder mused as he stared up at the ceiling. “...when you feel romantic attraction for someone...”

Scully, slumped next to him on the couch, shrugged. “...I just want to feel closer to the person.”

“Physically closer?”

“Yes, but in a less sexual kind of way. Not in a way that implies that its leading to something more. Just...touch. For its own sake.”

“Touch, like...”

Mulder’s fingertips found their way into her palm. Scully’s heart skipped.

“...holding hands, for example?”

She looked down guiltily at the connection he’d made, unable to contain the smile on her face. “For example, yes.”

“I can’t believe this, Scully,” Mulder confessed, feigning offense. “Here I thought this was a professional platonic partnership, and come to find you’ve been taking advantage of me this whole time.”

“Shut up, Mulder.”

“I feel so used.”

Scully playfully shoved his shoulder with her own, and he chuckled. His head tilted back against the cushions, revealing the same sleepy sideways gaze from last Christmas. His hand gave hers an affectionate squeeze.

The rush returned and pumped quick through her veins, heightening her awareness once more. When she spoke again, her voice was a whisper.

“You want more than I would be able to give you.”

Mulder shook his head, his voice softening to match her own. “That’s not true.”

Scully threw him her patented skeptical glare.

“If you’re asking if I enjoy sex, the answer is yes,” Mulder confirmed. “But I thought we were talking about what I want. And what I want, Scully, is this.”

Scully swallowed, unsure how to respond.

“In case you hadn’t noticed,” his fingers intertwined with hers as he continued, “I like holding hands, too.”

“You like more than holding hands, Mulder.”

Mulder sat up, his tone more serious. “I do, but I wouldn’t like doing anything with you that you don’t want.”

Scully sighed. She had heard these words before. The false claims of bad ex-boyfriends, full of entitlement, hellbent on convincing her to be something she wasn’t. It was hard to ignore the wall of resistance she had built to shield herself from the bullshit.

“You don’t owe me anything, Scully,” Mulder added, unknowingly tugging her from her ugly thoughts.

She was reminded of the hallway years ago. His own confession to her.

Perhaps his words did sound reminiscent of the lies of others, but didn’t it matter who was saying them? After all, she had always had the strength of Mulder’s beliefs. That included his beliefs in her. In the both of them together.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely, “for wanting to understand.”

“You’ve been the only one who’s wanted to understand me for years, Scully. I am more than happy to return that courtesy to you.”

Scully chuckled and let her forehead rest against his. She considered asking him what he thought they were now, if not merely a professional platonic partnership, but quickly banished the silly inquiry from her mind.

She knew what they were. She had always known.

___

More months passed, Mulder left for England, and Scully found herself suddenly sorting through a past she would rather forget. The contrasts between who she had been, who she thought she was, and who she had become now felt so stark and clear. A stronger, braver, more confident person stood in her shoes these days. It made her happy to realize this at last.

She considered keeping her soul search to herself, but by the time he returned, sitting next to her with their usual cups of tea between them, she found that keeping things to herself no longer felt right. Not when it came to Mulder. There was no reason to hide anymore.

She fell asleep surrounded by the comfort of his space yet again, under the woolen blanket he had tucked around her, and awoke an hour later just as Mulder padded into view, hair damp from a shower, wearing dark pajama bottoms and a Knicks shirt. She smiled and scoot over so he could sit next to her.

“What time is it?” Scully wondered, shifting for more comfort.

“Late,” Mulder replied with a grin. “You can take the bed if you want.”

The bed. He never called it his. He had stopped referring to the desk at the office as his, too. Piece by piece, he was letting go of his world and offering it to her. Not as an act of sacrifice, but an act of recognition. An acknowledgement that things were different now.

Scully cupped his face in her hands. His skin felt rough and cool and undeniably inviting to the touch. She let a thumb brush softly against his jawline. The fresh scent of him only added fuel to a fire that was gradually burning low inside her.

His eyes skirted from her eyes to her lips, but he did not make any movement towards her. ‘Up to you, Scully,’ his expression insisted. ‘All up to you.’

Guiding him to her, heart thudding hard in her chest, she kissed him. It was no more intense or lasting than the first and only other one they had shared, but Scully felt a sense of pride at initiating it. She let it continue for a few moments, then slowly pulled away.

If there had been any doubt that Mulder was in love, the dazed look on his face now removed that option entirely.

“What do you like, Scully?” he asked, voice genuine, his eyes boring into hers with sincerity. “What can I do?”

Scully considered this request. Then stood, letting the blanket sink to the floor. She took off her jacket as well, letting it follow suit.

He watched, captivated, as she lead him with interlaced hands to the bedroom.  
___

It felt strange and wild and empowering to kiss Mulder in the darkened sanctuary here. It renewed her confidence and she kissed him deeper, nipping his lips playfully until he opened them to let her in. His mouth and tongue, tentatively allowing her to take the lead, tasted deliciously of mint toothpaste.

With a tug she helped him remove his shirt. Once it fell to the floor, she stepped even closer, her legs between his. Her breath flowed feather light across his bare neck as her fingers made their way around his wrists. They circled his pulse points and then slithered slowly up, following the natural trail of veins to the inside of his elbow.

They hovered there a moment, drawing tiny meaningless designs. Then she dragged them straight to his wrists again, fingers curling so her nails scratched ever so slightly on their way down to relieve the tickled skin.

“Mmm,” Mulder muttered, leaning into the crown of her head. “That’s nice.”

Scully turned so that her lips grazed his collar bone and her hands moved to his midriff.

She repeated her initial touch, crawling ever so softly up his chest, around the sides of his ribs, stopping just below his shoulder blades. She waited there a moment before sweeping the fingers down with the same light scratching motion. She felt Mulder quiver, goosebumps prickling under her palms.

His own hands came up, eagerly pulling at the hem of her sweater. “Can I…”

Scully grabbed hold of the sides and they both slid the sweater carefully up and over until it dropped to the floor.

Without hesitation, Mulder’s hands went to work, mimicking what she’d just shown him. Slow caresses across the tender parts of her arms and chest and neck. Harder, quicker strokes to satisfy the tingling sensation that arose. She shivered in his arms. Mulder was a fantastically quick learner.

“Is this okay?” he asked through a raspy breath.

Scully held him tighter and nodded into his chest. She then stepped back and reached around to unclasp her bra.

Mulder stopped her with a hand over hers. “Let me.”

He drew her arm down to her side, then let his fingertips dance across each shoulder, encouraging the straps to slip down to her elbows. Pulling her closer to him, he twisted the clasp free.

She gasped as the wonderful release of the fabric falling away was replaced with the hot, smooth pads of his hands. He traced the pattern on her skin from her bra with the most delicate touch. Her nails dug wantonly harder into the soft flesh of his biceps.

“How am I doing so far?” he asked through a grin, lips pressed against the shell of her ear.

“I need to lay down.”

Mulder chuckled, nudging her towards the bed. “Good idea.”

Scully’s skirt and tights and Mulder’s pants and socks quickly joined the rest of the clothes on the floor. They laid on their sides, face to face, arms and legs entangled, fingers and toes continuing to create electrifying patterns everywhere within reach.

Scully nuzzled under his jaw, beginning a new adventurous trail down his neck with her tongue and his hips jerked forward against her.

Swallowing nervously, Scully stopped. Her palms came back up to his chest to hold him back.

“Mulder. Um. I’m not...”

Mulder looked down at her with concern. “Too much?”

“I’m sorry.”

Mulder retreated to a more neutral position, his forehead resting on hers again, “Please don’t apologize for what is quickly becoming the greatest make out of my life.”

She eyed him doubtfully.

“I’m not kidding. This is the best thing we’ve ever done. Forget the X-Files. And pogs, for that matter. They can have all of it.”

Scully chuffed and buried her head in his shoulder. She stayed there a moment, grounding herself in his wonderful scent and the feel of his breath. She may not be willing to give his body what it biologically desired, but she was certainly okay with presenting to it a favorable peace offering.

Slowly, Scully made her way back to give her lips a lingering, grateful kiss and rest her hand innocently on his hip. He responded fervently, tugging her closer to him, but keeping his waist a respectable distance away.

Scully continued the make out for several minutes, settling back into the rhythm of his lips against hers. Then made her move.

The hand on his hip ventured down to stroke to the bulge in his boxer briefs. Shocked, Mulder abruptly broke the kiss. He grasped her wandering arm and shook his head.

“Scully, you don’t have to do that...”

She let the tip of her nose tickle his earlobe as she whispered, “I want to.”

The hand maneuvered around his weakening hold and slipped inside, brushing up against the length of him, caressing the sensitive parts behind it as well. He inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering closed.

She smiled devilishly. “Do you want me to?”

Abandoning her arm to wrap around the base of her neck, his hand pulled her into a adrenalized kiss that roughly translated to ‘hell yes’.

His hums and thrusts guided her hands as she eagerly learned what drove Fox Mulder to the edge. She rocked with him as the pressure built, moaning encouragingly against his ear. His breath grew ragged and he clutching her desperately as though never intending to let go. Happiness shot through Scully like fireworks. She was doing this. He was letting her do this. Letting her be with him as he lost control.

Soon his muscles pulsed and strained with anticipation. Scully grinned excitedly. The release was coming any second now.

“Dana!” It was the last thing he uttered, like a surrender, before coming undone. She held on tightly as the waves of pleasure crashed against him, frenzied heat radiating between their bodies.

They laid silently together afterwards, Scully’s head on top of Mulder’s chest, listening to his breath and heart slowly returning to normal. His hand slid absentmindedly through her hair until he finally let go of his last few moments of consciousness.

She slipped quietly out of bed before the sun rose and dressed quickly. If she stayed any longer, she was sure she would never leave. And this couldn’t be their life. Not yet. They still had so much work to do.

Still, as she slipped on her jacket and took one last look at her sleeping partner, she couldn’t help but crack a smile at what that future may hold.

___

The future, it turned out, had a lot more in store for her than she ever thought possible. Including a chance at an opportunity she thought had long been taken away from her. Motherhood. Something she had tried her best to accept would never be a part of her life. But now circumstances changed and, fumbling and scary as the request felt coming out of her mouth, she found herself asking Mulder to be the father.

She gave him time to think it over, alone, insisting she would not contact him to influence either way. Instead she waited, sleeplessly and impatiently, for what felt like an eternity before he finally stopped over on his way to the office.

The moment he said ‘yes’ was the happiest Scully could ever remember feeling. She had never known that gratitude or love could feel this way. She’d said it once before and believed it even more as she hugged him tight - she could no longer imagine life without him in it.

Unfortunately, whatever dark forces that always seemed to pursue her managed to catch up once more. The IVF failed, of course it did, and she felt stupid for hoping. Beyond stupid for convincing Mulder to hope, too.

She did not know how long she stood in her living room, crying in his embrace. Her heart felt smashed into a million pieces and he seemed to be the only thing keeping any of them still together.

With her cheek pressed to his and nothing left to lose, she made another request. It came out more timid than intended. She hoped that would not affect the answer.

"Can you stay?"

She did not pull away, did not want whatever her eyes might tell him to color his response. He was too good at reading her eyes. 

She felt his arms tighten their affectionate hold, followed by his reply, quiet but clear. 

"Of course."

She loosened her grip on his shoulders and fell back to her heels. Mulder found her hands and took them in his own, lacing their fingers together as he always did. She fought back the new tears that pricked her eyes and looked up at him.

As expected, he was in overdrive trying to read her. It was overwhelming and she quickly looked away, hoping he knew she did not want to talk about it.

He did not press further. Only rubbed his thumbs lazily over her knuckles, waiting patiently.

With a tug she lead him to her bedroom. It was the only place she had wanted to be as soon as she had been given the news. Her room. With her things. With him.

She pulled back the blankets and curled underneath. He hovered over protectively, helping to cover her.

"Can I get you anything?"

She rolled to face him, shook her head, and instead stuck a hand out towards him. A silent invitation. The first since that night they had shared a bed at his apartment.

His gaze slowly moved from her hand to her eyes, trying to read her once more. Her fingers wriggled, growing impatient. Finally, he took her hand and eased himself next to her under the blankets.

His face lay inches from hers, hand reaching out to brush a stray hair from her face. She closed her eyes, soaking in the calming presence that was Fox Mulder. She was reminded of the Christmas they watched Apollo 13, before this shift in their relationship happened, and how truly happy he always seemed to make her feel just by being there. Existing.

Losing her ability to resist, Scully let new tears slide silently down her face. She smiled as his warm touch dutifully wiped them away. She moved closer to bump her forehead against his and wrap her arm snuggly around his waist. A whisper of his lips pressed the tip of her nose. 

'I don't have a last chance, but at least I have you.’

It was the last thought she had before falling asleep.

____

 

She woke in a haze hours later to the frantic adjusting of Mulder. The room was so dark she could see nothing but the red numbers of the clock on the night stand. 4:15am.

"Mulder?"

He was kicking at something under the covers. "Sorry. Jeans were killing me." She heard the discarded pants plop onto the floor and felt him settle next to her again. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay." She considered, then chuckled. "I second that, actually."

Mulder moved away to give her space as Scully went to work at removing her own pants. With significantly less fuss, she wiggled her legs free and tossed the clothing off the bed.

"Better?"

"Wait." She expertly unhooked and removed her bra under her shirt, then tossed it away as well. "Much."

He smirked and they cuddled back together, his hand resting on her almost-bare hip. Fingertips drew small circles on the skin there, testing the waters.

She heard him swallow nervously, then found that her next exhale came out shaky and ragged. The burning desire that often stayed so dormant within her suddenly felt incredibly awake, blooming forth like a morning glory. Merely holding each other this way tonight was unsustainable.

For both of their sanities, Scully kissed him. And as soon as she felt the soft smack of their lips parting, she leaned in for a second - deeper and slower than the first.

Mulder captured her bottom lip and tugged. She followed suit and hear him let out an involuntary moan.

"Scully..."

She pressed her lips to his again before the thought finished. This was not a time for words.

She lifted a leg - shaking from excitement and nerves - across his hips, straddling him. In response, he sat up, holding her close, burying his lips in her hair to find her ear.

“Is this what you want?”

The whispered question ran shivers down her spine. A different kind of shiver. One that left her needing more.

In her hesitancy, Mulder leaned back to look at her, desperate for communication, though the room was still too dark to see.

Scully curled a hand around the back of his neck, tugging his ear towards her lips, letting her voice be the vessel for the passion growing inside. “I want everything you have to give.”

His response was immediate. He slipped his fingers through her hair and around her back to pull her back down on top of him. His hands did exactly what she'd wanted, so well that it was overwhelming.

“Mm. Fox...”

Her eyes snapped open in embarrassment. Where the hell had _that_ come from? She buried her reddening face into the crook of his neck and chuckled. "Sorry..."

His hands did not stop their exploration. In fact, they seemed encouraged. His voice felt deeper, more sensual, against her ear. "When you say it like that, I don't mind it so much..."

She lifted her head to look at him. She'd always assumed his request to be called Mulder had meant he'd let her in, that he had trusted her. Only now did she realize it must’ve been the opposite. A defense mechanism, to try to ensure their relationship stayed professional. A mechanism that was clearly no longer needed.

She felt him gaze back at her in the darkness, breath quivering with want.

They took their time, tenderly and adoringly. When both had discarded the remainder of their clothes, the desire still pulsating incessantly between them, Scully reached out to wind her fingers around his. The touch that had started it all.

“I love you,” she confessed, with complete honesty.

He squeezed her hand sweetly in response. Scully closed her eyes, remembering his words.

‘Never give up on a miracle.’

And, as the night turned to day, she didn’t.


End file.
